


A Dabble in Draco/Harry

by mugglecastiel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drarry, M/M, Some Swearing, various plots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglecastiel/pseuds/mugglecastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many, many little stories will be added. There are various plots with Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter as lovers, sometimes as friends, sometimes as newlyweds, and sometimes as fathers. You never know what to expect until it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. beast of burden

**Author's Note:**

> in which draco is a werewolf and it’s his “time of the month”, but all harry wants to do is make out.

“Potter, you’re doing it again.”  
Draco was referring to the fact that Harry was staring at him from across the room, not paying attention to the homework he was meant to be finishing. The two had been working for merely twenty minutes, and already Potter had looked up at him to stare at least ten times.  
“Sorry.”  
The feeling of eyes undressing him left Draco. It left him feeling slightly remorseful. To drag Harry’s attention back to him, he smirked a little at his own parchment, dotting the end of the paragraph with a small flourish, then spoke. “I know I’m attractive, Potter, but I didn’t think you were so consciously aware of it.”  
Their eyes met for a moment, making Draco’s smirk turn into a joyful smile. Harry smiled back, not fully, but fleetingly- one second it was there, and the next it was just a memory of a smile. The momentary smile made Draco’s entire life seem better if it had brought him to this point, if it had brought him to witness this smile at least once.  
“I’d like to kiss you,” Harry announced a short time after they abandoned eye contact.  
“Is that a good idea?” Draco questioned, not bothering to look up from his work. The essay was due tomorrow for Arithmancy and he was not going to let Potter distract him from it, even if it was Potter talking about kissing him.  
“Perhaps not, but, as you would say, I am a bloody Gryffindor. We never make good decisions.” Harry’s voice sounded a little strained, as though it were tying him down to the floor and he was struggling against it. Harry coughed lightly, or maybe grunted. Draco was never sure which was which. “Tell me why I can’t kiss you.”  
Sighing in exasperation, Draco gently set his quill down on the desk, then turned to face Harry. “If you kiss me, Potter, we will get carried away. I can promise that. And if we get carried away, we become irresponsible. First, you don’t get homework done. Second, I don’t get homework done. Third, we wind up in bed. Fourth, I lose control. We both know that cannot happen.”  
“We’ve kissed without you losing control before.”  
“Not after last time,” Draco whispered hoarsely, remembering the way he’d almost bit Harry last time. It was still a full moon, too. He didn’t want to cause him that pain.  
“Last time was an exception.You’ve been taking your wolfsbane, Draco. It’s not like you’re going to go all werewolf on me and try to change me.” Voice softer, more gentle, Harry looked down at his hands in his lap. “Anyway, I wouldn’t much care if you did change me. It would just mean that it was another worry out of the way.”  
That made Draco freeze. It woke something deep within him, something terrifyingly blissful and cold all at the same time. His voice was a thick, cool drawl when he finally let out his thoughts. “It would not be another worry out of the way.” Without his consent, his legs carried him out of the chair and placed him in front of Harry, who had taken a seat on the cold stone floor in front of the fire. He kneeled in front of him, taking the hands he seemed to be so fascinated by moments ago.  
“If you took this on as well,” he breathed, unable to raise his voice any louder, “you would be subject to horrific pain every full moon. Pain so unbearable it feels as though you are being torn apart by ropes around your extremities. Pain so unbelievable that it does not even compare to a Cruciatus.  
“Once a month, Harry, you would have interchangeable emotions, so much so that it is terrifying. One moment you will feel content for once, and the next you will feel murderous. You will be so upset you are crying, and the next you will feel nothing.  
“You will be forced to keep this secret that no one except those few you trust can know, and there will be no way for you to hide it easily. No way to sneak away to change at night. No way to sneak away to even take your potion unless you wish to brew it yourself in your quarters.”  
“Draco, shut up!”  
He stopped, keeping his eyes on the dark hands in his. When he finally looked up, his eyes locked on Harry’s instantly. “This is my burden, Harry, not yours. I do not wish to make it yours, either. I would not wish this on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”  
Harry simply stared at him, looking on the verge of tears. His hands tightened on Draco’s, then lifted one pale hand to his lips. The soft pressure on the back of his hand made Draco’s lips curl at the corners.  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry mumbled. He paused for a moment, then dropped Draco’s hand to shove pale hair away from his cheek and stuff it behind his ear. “Think you can handle at least not being all the way across the room? It tends to make it harder to see you studying.”


	2. embarrassment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which draco malfoy creates a complete fool of himself by accidentally confessing something to his occasional snog partner by accident.

Snogging with Harry Potter in the corridor was not an action Draco partook in to deal with his infatuation with said Golden Boy. It was just a thing that happened.  
Occasionally.  
Sometimes.  
Often.   
Nightly.   
It certainly was not something he did with the idea of falling head over heels for Harry Potter.   
A hand grabbed his arse and he was ripped from his thoughts and into the present, hearing his partner moan softly. The vibration of the sound did something ungodly to his body, something that felt like he’d lost the bones within it. Specifically in his knees.   
“Bloody hell, Potter,” he breathed, his signature smirk sliding against Harry’s lips. His head canted back when those beautifully talented lips dragged against his neck. “Someone’s eager tonight.”   
“I could say the same about you,” Harry sighed, his arm tightening around Draco’s waist. It jerked his hips up against Harry’s. Both boys sucked in shaking gasps. “Fuck.”  
“Such foul language-” Draco taunted, breaking off the sentence with a miniscule groan. Harry’s tongue brushed against his collarbone. “-coming from such a pretty mouth.”   
“I could say the same for you, Malfoy.”   
“I speak nothing but sweet words to my love,” Draco whispered, lifting his hand and grabbing Harry’s chin. He slammed their lips together again, smiling when Harry’s teeth caught on his lower lip.   
“Your love?” Harry asked finally when they pulled apart.   
The moment froze as Draco realized what he’d said. Love. His love. Harry Potter.   
The two kept the other’s gaze. Tension built between them, and by the time Draco could think to say anything, it was so thick it probably couldn’t even be cut with a spell.   
“Fuck.”  
Small laughter spilled from Harry’s lips. “Such foul language coming from such a pretty mouth.”   
“Fuck, Potter, I didn’t mean- I mean- I don’t- We aren’t- Fuck!” Draco stammered, tripping over every thought in his head. He had no idea what he wanted to say to Harry. How the hell could he make this better? How the hell was he supposed to figure out how to change this into a joke or something to show he hated Harry? “I didn’t mean to say that I love you. Because I don’t. I certainly don’t. Don’t love Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy certainly does not love Harry Potter. No way. Nope. No love here. Just- Just animosity. Just hatred.”   
“Oh, now you love me?” Harry asked, looking highly amused. “This is definitely a game changer.”  
“I said I didn’t!” Draco cried, then covered his mouth. It was the dead of night; the entire castle probably heard him. “I don’t love you,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean to say I did.” He stared at Harry’s chest as he spoke, at the crimson sweater stretched across it in a very pleasing way.   
Since he was doing this, he didn’t catch the twinkle of delight in Harry’s eyes. It was the same one he always got when he was causing trouble or having a bit too much fun. It also happened to be the same one to inhabit his eye when he was extremely overjoyed.   
“Well, that’s horrid,” Harry mused, his voice a lilting whisper. It pulled Draco’s eyes up again, despite the fact that Harry would see his splotchy, bright red blush. “Especially considering I think I might possibly love you as well, Malfoy. But if you insist that you don’t love me…”  
“Shut up, Potter.” Draco smiled a little, seeing the shit-eating grin Harry had produced. “You’re an arse, you know.”  
“One that you love. Let’s get back to snogging.”   
“Honestly, you Gryffindors have such one-track minds.”


	3. television

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is meant to be a little humorous, but it does in fact get a tad bit awkward. if you are uncomfortable with insinuations toward sex or pornography, be wary!

“Peeves!” Harry shouted, knocking his fist against the door of the broom cupboard as hard as he could. “Peeves, let us out!”  
“You know, Potter,” Draco Malfoy started, crossing his arms and leaning against the far wall. “Begging Peeves doesn’t work very well.” His eyes shone with mirth, but for what Harry didn’t know. He certainly wasn’t happy to be locked in a broom closet with Draco Malfoy. Being in close quarters with the git was already hard enough, let alone being trapped in a miniscule room with him.   
Honestly, it was like something out of Harry’s deepest desires.   
“I know that, Malfoy,” Harry bit back, leaning his head against the door. “I have been dealing with Peeves for as long as you have.” His fist hit the door one more time, then he turned to face his companion. “We wouldn’t be in here if it weren’t for you, though. Thanks for that.”   
“Me?” Draco scoffed, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. As he neared Harry, his arms fell. He looked down at Harry, who was just a tad shorter, with his signature smirk on his face. “It is not my fault that we are in here. Who was it that started the fight in the corridor?”  
“It was definitely not me!” Harry protested. “Why would I purposefully start an argument with you?”  
When Draco opened his mouth to continue fighting, a loud, unexpected, guttural moan was emitted. Shocked and believing the sound came from Draco, he froze, not even daring to breathe.   
Draco turned, though, giving Harry a glimpse of what had appeared behind him.   
It was a television that had been turned on. Another moan came from the speakers, causing Harry’s eyes to go wide. Was this Peeves’s idea of a trick? Or was it just something that… appeared? Was Harry dreaming again?  
“Potter, turn it off!” Draco’s voice rang around the room, surrounded by obscene noises.   
Harry panicked, trying to use a spell to turn it off before it could get any further. When that didn’t work, he tried searching for some kind of power button.   
“There’s no button,” he stated, shocked. “Is it magical? Why didn’t a spell work?”  
“Reducto!”   
Harry yelped and fell back onto the floor, then looked up at Draco angrily. “What the bloody fuck, Malfoy?! You could have missed and hit me instead!”  
A shit-eating grin crossed Malfoy’s mouth, pissing Harry off even further. He shrugged his shoulders, looking lazy and alert all at once. “Oops.”   
“Oops?” he questioned incredulously, climbing to his feet again. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”  
Another shrug. “I am not giving you an apology, if that’s what you are striving toward.”   
Harry muttered under his breath something very rude, dropping down next to the door again. “If Peeves isn’t letting us out and that is stuck in here with us, I am not watching it.”   
“Well, I am not going to let this go to waste. Quality smut should not be left unappreciated.” At this, Draco turned to lean against the wall again, this time facing the television, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing his eyes on the screen.   
Knocking his hand against the door, waiting for Peeves to let them out. All Harry could smell was Draco’s cologne, and it was beginning to get on his nerves. It wasn’t like it was a bad scent- cinnamon and musk, in a way- but it wasn’t a good thing to have on his mind. All he wanted was to be out of this broom cupboard.   
“Hey, Potter,” Draco said suddenly, distracting Harry from his thoughts and repetitive action. His eyes flickered back slightly, and with some effort, he managed to avoid catching the image on the television screen. His eyes stuck to the door instead even as he addressed Draco.   
“What do you want now?”   
“Are you a virgin?”  
Sputtering, Harry turned quickly to stare at him, eyes wide. “Wha- But- Ma-” He froze for a second, his mouth open, brow furrowed. Should he even answer the question? Was Draco playing him? Trying to get him to confess so that he would have something to make fun of him for?   
“Come on, Potter. I’ll gladly tell you that I am.”   
Draco Malfoy? Virgin? That sounded impossible.   
Before he could think about it, Harry was answering. “Yes, I am.”   
“I think that losing your virginity too early is not a sign of popularity. It’s a sign of weakness. It’s useless.” Draco sighed, his head turning slightly so that he could look at Harry. “We are only sixteen, after all. What’s the point in doing that currently?”   
Harry couldn’t disagree. It was a good point. “There are much more important things to worry about.”   
A snide tone enveloped Draco’s voice again. It wasn’t a welcome tone after the thoughtful, content tone Harry had finally heard in that voice. “Like saving the world?”  
Harry didn’t deign the phrase worthy of a reply.   
After a few moments of moaning and groaning, he felt as though he was going to go insane. Eventually he heard Draco sniggering as he sunk to sit against the wall rather than lean on it.   
“Harder,” a voice groaned out of the speaker of the television. Harry grimaced, his forehead hitting the door.   
“Harder, Potter, harder,” Draco taunted, chuckling still.   
Despite the words going to his crotch, Harry muttered under his breath, “If you do not shut your prissy little gob, Malfoy-”   
“Ever think about doing this to someone, Potter?”  
Harry frowned. “What the fuck, Malfoy?”  
There was a slight pause. The room was filled with Harry’s muttered spells, all directed at the door, and the groaning and pleading of the two men on the television. Honestly, Harry thought, how are they not finished yet? It’s been at least twenty-  
“I’ve thought about doing it with you, Potter.”   
Harry turned around so quickly that he misjudged the distance and caught a nice, in-depth look of the picture. A wordless shout slipped from his mouth and he angled away again to slam his forehead against the door.   
“Merlin, I didn’t think the idea of being with me was that repulsive.”   
It took Harry a moment to figure out how to respond. His forehead remained against the door, his wand tapping against the stone floor gently as though he were trying to figure out what spell to use next. Little did Draco know, he was imagining doing those unspeakable acts with him, imagining the look on his face, the sounds he would make, the feeling of their skin-  
“It’s not.”   
Harry risked a glance up at his companion, finding him gaping openly. Grey eyes stuck to his figure and practically undressed him, making him feel a little vulnerable, yet oddly at ease. Once content with Draco’s open gaze, he allowed himself to get a good look at his lithe form gathered up against the wall of the broom cupboard.   
“Potter, you’re staring.”  
His heart skipped a beat. That thoughtful tone had returned. It made Harry wonder if that was how Draco spoke when he wasn’t torturing someone. “As are you, Malfoy.”   
More silence- aside from the sounds coming from the television that both boys were ignoring now- ensued. It built up to a point where Harry couldn’t handle it anymore and glanced away, his teeth latching onto his lip. His face grew red. “Should we be snogging?”   
“Moving a bit fast, I think, Potter.”  
“Bloody hell, Malfoy, we’re practically watching- watching-” He trailed off with a vague wave of his hand in the direction of the television.   
“Porn, Potter? There’s no need to be coy.” Draco smirked, his eyes flickering back to the screen. He blinked and made a face at the picture, shaking his head and looking away as though he were shocked. “Okay, maybe there is a need to be coy.”   
Surprisingly, Harry found himself laughing. It took him a few seconds to figure out what he wanted to say, and while he did he took his time looking at Draco.   
“Really, though. We need to be serious about this. We both just admitted… feelings for each other. What does this mean?”  
“It means we want to do what those men on the television are doing,” Draco replied. “Maybe even more,” his voice dropped to a whisper and he moved closer to Harry, “Potter.”   
Harry squirmed at the feeling of breath cascading over his cheek. It caused him to shift a little further away, and he certainly didn’t mind. “Malfoy, I’m being serious.”   
“As am I. I’m not going to let you go thinking I don’t want to bugger your brains out.”  
Harry’s face had to be as red as his tie by now. It was possible he would die if Draco didn’t stop moving closer, too. He shifted away again. “I don’t think you don’t want to bugger my brains out, or whatever you just said. I just think we should talk first. You said it yourself-”  
“That shite about being a virgin?” Draco mused quietly. His head tilted slightly. “I suppose I did say that.”   
Yet again, he moved closer.   
For every millimeter Draco moved, Harry moved an inch.   
“That shite?” Harry asked, frowning. It made it sound like Draco had been humoring him.   
Realization dawned on Draco’s face. “Oh, no, I was completely serious about that. I am a virgin, and those are my views on it, but…”   
“But those would change.”  
“Especially if I found out the guy I want to snog wants to snog me as well,” Draco whispered, smiling at Harry. It wasn’t a smirk at all- just a smile.   
It looked stunning.   
Entranced, Harry smiled back. It took a second for him to gain control again. When he did, he shifted away a little, putting some distance between himself and Draco. “I think snogging is all we should do right now.”  
“Then stop moving away. Honestly, Potter, for a Gryffindor, you’re quite the coward.”  
Harry bit his lip and looked down, his face bright red. “You’re Malfoy, though,” he mumbled. “I’m not supposed to be doing this with Malfoy.”  
“Then think of me as Draco instead,” Draco sighed, sounding closer to Harry. “I’m not Malfoy. Malfoy is my last name. I am a Malfoy, but I am not Malfoy.”   
One curt nod later, fingers were gently coaxing Harry’s chin up. As soon as Harry met Draco’s eyes, he started to move away. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. This was Malfoy.   
He couldn’t move away. He’d backed himself into a corner.   
“Shite,” he whispered, his eyes wide. He repeated the word a few times, seeing a small light dimming in Draco’s eyes every time he did. “Ma-”  
“Harry,” Draco chided, but it seemed like anything but chastisement. The sound of his first name falling from Draco’s lips made Harry grab Draco’s cheeks and pull him into a kiss.   
It started with just a peck on the lips, but neither was satisfied by this. Years of pent up tension were released from the cages because there was finally an outlet for them to escape from.   
Slowly, the kisses dissipated into harsh breathing and sore, swollen lips. Neither boy opened their eyes, fearing it wasn’t actually who they allowed themselves to believe it was breathing against their lips, cooling and soothing them.   
“Potter?”  
The sound of Draco’s rough voice made Harry’s lips curl. “It’s Harry now.”   
A short laugh sounded like it tumbled out of Draco unbidden. The sound made Harry grin wider and brought him to allow his fingers to brush through Draco’s hair. It was unbelievably soft. Harry marveled at it for a moment before shaking his head a little and leaning in to hesitantly press a kiss to the corner of Draco’s mouth. “That what you wanted, Malfoy?”  
“It’s Draco,” he grumbled, his fingers tugging at Harry’s sweater. “Not Malfoy.”   
Harry hummed in response, leaning in to kiss along his cheek. Now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. All it took was one intoxicating kiss. Or maybe more than one intoxicating kiss. He’d lost count around ten. His lips brushed Draco’s ear when he spoke. “That what you wanted, Draco?”  
A short grunt came from Draco as he tugged at Harry’s sweater again in attempt to drag him into another snogging session. “Hell, Harry, it was so much more than what I wanted.”


	4. rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a rainy morning in the malfoy residence. 
> 
> \---okay, so this isn't my best work, but it is kind of cute. maybe i'll revisit the idea later, when i'm not so tired and having so much trouble writing anything. enjoy for now.

The patter of rain was something one grew familiar with when they grew up on the countryside in the United Kingdom. It soon became a calming sound, something that tossed you back into childhood and made you want to smile as soon as you woke up.   
The snoring of one’s boyfriend was not one of those things. It didn’t stir any of those nostalgic, joyous feelings. Especially not when it drained out the sound of the rain. Especially not when he was snoring right in one’s ear and all one wanted to do was sleep.   
But of course, Draco couldn’t bring himself to get angrier with Harry. The Boy Who Lived really was cute when he slept, those pretty lips parted slightly, sooty black eyelashes dancing against cheekbones…   
Groaning, Draco tried to pull his arm out from under him. He might as well make himself useful if he’s going to be awake and get a house elf to bring breakfast up for them so he could surprise Harry. It wouldn’t do any good to wake the boy, though.   
“Draco?” Harry asked sleepily, his face shifting into a slight frown. He stretched a little, his fingers catching on the waistband of Draco’s silk pajamas.   
Too late.  
“Yes, Harry?” His voice sickly sweet, Malfoy turned to look at Harry, sprawled out in his bed, looking like some kind of Indian god with his slight frown, tired, half lidded eyes, and mess of curly hair against the dark sheets.  
“Where you going?”   
“I was going to get us some breakfast, love, but if you’d much prefer me in bed with you, I’d be happy to oblige.”   
“Oblige. Please. Now.”   
Snorting at his impatience, Draco allowed himself to lay back down. Harry reached across his chest to grab his arm and bring it over his torso, making Draco lay on his side. “Someone is rather impatient this morning.”   
“Yes, well, I was rudely awoken.” Harry burrowed into Draco’s chest, his warm clay-colored skin brushing against Draco’s pale white skin. Every time that happened, Draco was just a little shocked that Harry was actually real and not one of those clay dolls his mother used to collect.   
“That makes two of us.”   
Harry laughed softly. “Was I snoring again?”  
“No, of course not, Potter.”   
“M’sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” his voice was muffled against Draco’s chest, making the entire apology even better than Draco could have dreamt of.   
“Whatever. It’s done. I’m awake, and so are you. Would you like breakfast in bed, or would you like to head down to the table and eat with-”  
“Bed.”  
“Then I’ll need to sit up, Harry.”  
“Fine,” he grumbled, pushing at Draco jokingly. He smiled a little toward him, sitting up at the same time.   
As Draco ordered a house elf around, telling them what to bring, Harry sat there, stretching and waking himself up further. He rubbed at his eye with his knuckle as he yawned, trying to clear the sleep from his system. As he did so, he could feel Draco’s eyes on him, which made his eyes turn from the sliver of the rainy outside he could see through the closed curtains next to the bed to Draco’s pale grey eyes.   
“It’s raining.”   
“So it is.”   
“Rain is nice.”   
“I cannot say I disagree.”   
“Did you ask Knobby for hot cocoa?”  
“Yes, Potter. You don’t like coffee. I know this. We’ve only been together for years.”   
“Just checking.”  
The two shared a small smile, which only ended because Harry pitched himself at Draco. Using his seeker reflexes, he caught hold of Draco’s thin upper arm and pulled him into a slight hug, dragging him down onto the bed again.   
“Potter!” Draco laughed, which was of course a glorious sound in its own. “Let go of me!”  
“No! You’re trapped, Malfoy!” Harry laughed as well, making Draco only laugh more. With his arms around Draco’s shoulders, he set work to what he’d planned to do before, pressing his lips to his cheek repeatedly.   
“Trapped, eh, Potter?” Malfoy mused, quieter now that Harry was showing his affection. “I’ve never been trapped like this. Usually, trapping includes torture, or maybe some kind of deprivation.”   
“Not this kind.” Harry grinned, leaning down a little further. “No deprivation here. No torture here.”  
“There is deprivation here. I can’t get free. Deprivation of freedom.”  
“The only way you can escape this one is with a kiss.”   
“Seems like a fair price,” Draco muttered, smirking. “Any specific area?”  
“Lips.”   
“May I have a demonstration, Keeper?”  
“Of course, Captive,” Harry chuckled, leaning in to press a slightly awkward kiss to Draco’s lips. He tasted like sleep, warmth, and safety, the three things Harry loved most. “Just like that.”  
“Just like this?”   
“A little longer,” Harry mumbled after the second kiss, smirking against Draco’s lips. “Then maybe you’ll be free.”   
The two descended into yet another kiss just as Knobby returned with trays of food and two mugs full of hot cocoa. The house elf simply smiled and left the trays and mugs on the desk near Master Malfoy’s bed, accustomed to seeing this by now. After all, Master Harry had been staying at the Manor for weeks, ever since they had graduated. It was not uncommon for Knobby to accidentally arrive in the middle of something.   
The two are kind of like the rain, Narcissa thought as she passed her son’s bedroom again, hearing the laughter dying down into the soft rattle of voices. They were barely heard over the rain outside. They go from a storm to a drizzle within seconds. A fight to a soft conversation, resulting in an understanding. A soft conversation to a rendezvous in Draco’s bedroom. She’d heard plenty from the two, more than she’d like to, but there was one thing she could not deny. Her son was finally happy. Her son was happy and calm in the rainstorm of a relationship he was in, and she was happy for him.


End file.
